


When You Have a Problem, Find an Answer

by Myven_Nightshade



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Deadpool Thought Boxes, Deadpool being Deadpool, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, I Don't Even Know, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, My First AO3 Post, My First Work in This Fandom, Not Canon Compliant, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is a Mess, Peter is 24, Rated for Deadpool's Language, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Tags May Change, Wade Wilson Needs A Hug, Wade is 29
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-06-03 18:44:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19469905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myven_Nightshade/pseuds/Myven_Nightshade
Summary: Peter Parker, the guy with a rundown apartment, underpaid job, and low bank account is your Spider-Man. You might not know that because he's so unassumingly quiet and nerdy, but he is. He really doesn't like where his life is at as of this moment, but he can't really change anything. He's about to finally accept that his life is fine as is, but then he gets a phone call that changes his life.Wade Wilson, the guy who kills for fun (and for jobs) is ready for something new in life, and death. He wants to try something that he hasn't tried before: being a hero. Now, that's a lot harder than it seems because of the fact that NONE of the Avengers wants to help him. The only break he catches is the one that he steals from the Avengers tower; Spider-Man's number. If anybody could help him out, it'd be Spidey. And, hey! If the author lets him, maybe he and Spidey might get together; who knows! Anything is possible.





	1. Monday--Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is quite literally my first posted work on ANYTHING so if it isn't up to your standards, tell me. Please, for the love of all things unholy, tell me when you get upset. My goal is to make the readers happy, so if I'm not doing that, I need to know so I can. I'll post when the next chapter appears on paper (because writers' block is a bitch), so don't expect something every week; I'll definitely try my best, though. Also, I can't really keep a chapter going in my head without stopping before I hit 3,000 words. I hope that doesn't bother you guys too much, but my chapters will be short so expect a lot of them.  
> I sincerely hope that you guys appreciate my writing and that I'll be able to keep the story going where I hope it is.
> 
> Without further ado, the words.

Peter Parker was sitting in his small, one-room apartment minding his own business, trying his best to complete his assignment from his latest Biochem class. It wasn’t anything that hard, really; just some essay questions, a small fill in the blank section that was missing whole paragraphs. See? Nothing too hard for Peter. Except for the fact that he couldn’t concentrate.

Peter was normally pretty good at keeping himself to his homework, but it seems that this time he might have to come back. Really, he should have seen this coming--with all the excitement at his late-night “job” nobody would blame him. Except… Peter blames himself for not focusing. 

With a heavy sigh and a dropped pencil, Peter stood up from the desk and turned for his closet. If he couldn’t focus he might as well do something productive.

Swinging through the city felt amazing this time of night; the wind rushing past his ears, the ambient sounds of honking cars; it was the best. Spider-Man released a web and took a wide swing around a corner, going high and landing on the roof of a building. Looking around, Spider-man watched as groups of people walked by, unaware of his stare fifteen stories away.

 _Man, when was the last time that I got to go out with my friends?_ Spider-Man thought back, trying to find an instance he had hung out with Harry, Gwen, and James. _Wow, if it takes me that long I_ really _need to plan something._ Just as he was dialling James’ number he hears a shout in the distance. _So much for that plan,_ Spider-man thought bitterly, swinging to the sound.

With the would-be mugger webbed to the wall and the victim talking with the police, Spider-Man swung away. A sudden yawn caught him by surprise, not realising how tired he was. “Geez, what time is- Holy crap! 1:47 already! I need to get back--now!” With sudden urgency to his voice and movements, Spider-man swung himself back to queens. “If I’m late to my lab I will cry,” he said with full seriousness. The last time he’d been late for a Biochem lab he’d been locked out, unable to participate, therefore, unable to get the points. “God I hope Gwen or James calls me to wake me up!”

_Holy fucking shit, I was literally two_ seconds _from being locked out,_ Peter thinks to himself, setting his bag on the bench beside him. _Thank god James called or I would have been toast._ Peter follows suit as the rest of the class pulls out their notes and lab books, not really paying any attention to the professor.

Peter walked from Physics to the cafeteria, quickly finding his friends as they laughed loudly. “-and that’s how I got my scar,” James said just as Peter was sitting down. 

“Yeah, right, James,” Gwen said. “You really expect me to believe that you got that scar on your neck from a _bull_? Yeah, there’s no way that’s true.”

“How is that any less believable than Harry getting the scars on his arms from too-hot grilled cheese,” James countered.

“Because Peter and I literally watched it happen. Isn’t that right, Peter?” 

Gwen and James both turned to face him, both waiting for him to answer. In all honesty, he had little to no clue about what was going on, but he still knew the truth. “Yeah, I remember that.” Peter gave Harry a smirk. “He was so excited to eat his first grilled cheese that as soon as it came off the burner he tried to take a bite. I guess that little Harry wasn’t thinking when he took that first bite; he burnt his tongue so badly, but he also forgot about the sandwich in his hands that the cheese melted onto his arm, scarring him forever.” The small retelling was ended with laughter as the three turned to Harry and noticed that he was blushing slightly as he covered his head, laying on the table.

“I was hoping you guys would actually forget about that,” Harry grumbled, furthering the groups' laughter even more.

Peter watched as Gwen and James had a heated discussion on the workings of Iron Man’s suit. Harry was walking behind the three of them, a phone against his ear as he was no doubt talking to his father’s secretary.

“I’m telling you that iron is way too heavy to build a working suit out of,” Gwen was saying. “It would make more sense if it were some sort of titanium alloy--maybe chromium--but iron is too much.”

“Um, are you hearing yourself? Because what I just heard was that Iron Man was a liar and needed a name change.” James was shaking his head laughingly, amused by Gwen’s suggestion. “Think about it: Why would _Iron_ Man call himself that unless his suit was Iron? Really, it’s elementary Watson.”

The two shared a laugh at the lame reference, agreeing to disagree until the topic somehow managed to come up at a later date. They all walked in relative silence, as Harry was still on the phone growing more and more exacerbated by the second.

 _Hey, maybe I can suggest a hangout that isn’t right after class? Would they like to go? But what should I suggest? Not anything too expensive--I don’t have the money to do that again, and I’m_ not _letting Harry pay for me again. That was too embarrassing._ Peter shook his head as he kept trying--and failing--to come up with a plan. Gwen looked over and saw the predicament Peter was in.

“What’s wrong, Peter?” She sounded concerned. 

“Huh? Oh! Nothing, nothing…” Peter felt the heat rise to his face at the realisation he’d been caught. Gwen didn’t look pleased by his answer if the way she was slightly glaring at him was any indication.

“Peter, what’s got you all riled up?” Great, now James was involved. With a little sigh, Peter looked forward again.

“I… I wanted to know if you guys wanted to hang out again, maybe on Saturday?” He looked back to Gwen and James and wished he hadn’t. It’s now that he remembers that the two have lives and don’t have time to do stupid things with him. “I-It’s okay if you can’t, we don’t have to! In fact, I’m no longer trying to plan it out in my head.” _Wow, way to sound desperate. Like they’re totally not going to pity you after that one._

“Actually, that sounds like a great idea,” Harry cut in. He was off the phone and looked like he wanted to collapse while simultaneously punching his father. “I think a Saturday hangout would be the perfect thing we need to do, especially for me.”

“Why, did you have another fight with the country’s leading company in Biochem’s CEO? Because if you did, that would make it the third time today,” James said as he reached his arm around Harry, purposefully ruffling his hair in the process.

“Yeah, so I think something this Saturday would be amazing. You guys in?” Harry looks expectantly at the three of them and, while Peter agrees readily Gwen and James have to check their calendar. Eventually, it comes out that Gwen and James _can_ make it and can be for the whole afternoon. “Great! So,” Harry says enthusiastically, “What did you guys plan to do?”

  


Peter fell back onto his bed right as he got home. _I can’t believe that I agreed to go see a movie. I literally can’t afford it._ Peter looked around his room lamely. Filled with his bed, desk, and scattered papers covered in chemical compounds and notes; it was a mess, but it was his mess. Peter thought back to the price of tickets. They had all agreed to meet ten minutes before it started, but… _I really don’t have the ability to go_.

Feeling worse than he did when he lied to his friends about his financial situation, Peter got up and changed into his Iron Man PJ bottoms and oversized Captain America shirt. He walked to the kitchen and opened the fridge before closing it immediately. _Right, No food._ Peter sighed dejectedly and sank into the cushion of his old, beat up couch that he got only because it was cheap and James said his apartment needed some “style”. He didn’t really get it as he was more than happy to stay in bed or at his desk rather than on a couch, but it was James and it’s hard to say no to him.

 _Goddamnit! I can’t believe I forgot--my rent’s due Thursday! Now there really is no way I’ll be able to go out with them. Gah! So stupid!_ Peter mentally berated himself for longer than any professional would say was healthy before he tried checking his bank account. Maybe he had some he had forgotten about? He really didn’t think it was the case but it wasn’t bad to check… Yeah, he had no money--unless you counted $6.70 as money to see a movie because he certainly didn’t, not when he had to buy something that resembled food to last him a week.

 _You know, I could always go without eating for a few days. It won’t be much, but the $5 ticket would be covered and he wouldn’t embarrass himself again. Thank god that place was as cheap as it was--in New York, no less._ Nodding to himself, Peter let himself get dragged into the plan to start saving money by skipping a few meals; only enough to let himself have money to get by and not get on Harry’s radar. Yeah, that should work. With the logistics of his situation figured out, Peter got off the couch and glanced at the time of his oven clock. 6:10, _I have time to shower before heading out tonight._

Spider-Man could be seen swinging around the block, closely following the speeding car. _If I let things get any worse I’m going to get a call from an unfriendly face._ What he was referencing was the fact that these car thieves not only stole a car, they also robbed a group of people, a bank, and blew up a corner store that also happens to be one of his favourites. He turned the corner seconds after his target and was able to create a barrier with his webbing just in time to stop a kid from walking directly into the street, effectively getting hit. _Yeah, it’s time to stop these guys._

With no amount of ease did he finally get one of his webs to stick to the roof of the car. He pulled himself down and landed firmly, creating a noticeable _thunk_ that no doubt alerted the thieves to his presence.

No sooner had he landed had a female voice shouted, “Grant, get him off us!” followed by a very gruff “I’ll try my best.” Expecting the car to start swerving, Spider-man gripped the metal of the roof. _Spidey senses!_ With the tingling sensation that started in his left shoulder, he jumped out of the way, right in time to hear a gun go off and see a bullet hole appear where he’d been not one second earlier.

“Hey, don’t damage the car! I don’t want to have to get another one due to your stupidity!” There was that first voice again. Maybe the two were a Bonnie and Clyde deal? Either way, he had to stop them. Just not without some fun of course.

“Hey, what’s the big idea? Don’t you guys know that guns are dangerous?” Spider-Man, gripping the roof again, swung off the left side and kicked in the window behind the driver. “I mean, come on; you could’ve hurt me!”

With some expert maneuvers and spectacular one-liners, might he add, Spider-man had managed to web the two criminals together around the car they had tried to steal. Now, it wasn’t a perfect job, seeing as there were plenty of damages around the city, but it was still not the worst. The only thing he could hope for was to not get a phone call. 

At that very moment, Spider-Man’s phone began to buzz.

He could only hope that who he thought was on the other end of the line... _wasn't_.


	2. Enter: Deadpool, General Annoyance (Monday--Again)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to give a big 'thank you' to all of you readers for giving this work a chance, and for leaving me with all of your wonderful comments and kudos! Really, it does mean a whole lot!  
> You guys said my first EVER public fanfic chapter was good and that was super appreciated! So, as thanks, I've made another chapter a day early. I've also begun work on the next chapter so I can hopefully post it before I lose service for a week.  
> I'm giving a disclaimer right now: I've only ever seen the first Deadpool, so... my interpretation isn't the best. I did try my best though! I'll leave it at that so you guys can get on reading the story rather than my ramblings.  
> Without further ado: Deadpool!

( _White Box,_ _ **Yellow Box,** _'Deadpool/Wade's thoughts' _Spider-Man/Peter's thoughts_ )

Deadpool was sitting in a very large conference room looking out the large floor-to-ceiling windows along the southern wall.

**_Now_ ** **that’s** **_a window to jump out of!_ **

_ Um, what? _

**_I’m saying that if we were to jump out of them, they would be nicer than all of the others we’ve jumped out of so far._ **

_ We’re here to talk, not die--if we wanted to die we’d’ve done it at home. _

‘I understand the appeal, Yellow, but White has a point: We came here so Tony Stark would help us, not kill ourselves on his doorstep.’

**_I think the term would be ‘sidewalk’._ **

_ No, I think it’d be ‘windowsill’. _

**_No, it’s a sidewalk._ **

_ Windowsill! _

**_Sidewalk!_ **

As the boxes grew louder and louder and louder in his head, Deadpool began looking to the window in hope. “I wonder when the Author is going to speed up the story,” he said to nobody but himself. 

Just at that moment the large sliding doors opened and in walked Tony. “Author? Don’t tell me you’re getting into writing again; we all know how that last book went.

**_He doesn’t know._ **

_ Poor guy. _

‘Guess I’ll do what I came here for,’ Deadpool thinks. He watches as Tony walked to the opposite side of the table, placing his hands on the surface to seem intimidating.

_ We weren’t watching him walk--don’t lie to the readers! _

**_Yeah! Tell the truth: We watched Tony’s gorgeous a-_ **

“How about we just skip to the part where I ask for your help instead?” Deadpool ignores the boxes’ objections and complaints, choosing to listen to Tony.

“I’m not giving an assassin any of my tech so he can get a kill.” 

‘And there he goes, closing himself off from my simple suggestion. What a spoilsport.’

**_If you just let us finish our thoughts in peace, maybe you wouldn’t be in this mess._ **

“Not a great idea; we still have to get through at least ten chapters before we delve into that stuff.” Tony watched with a slight offence as the red-clad ‘merc with a mouth’ continued to ignore him and talk to himself. 

_ Will you let him get on with the story already? We’ve spent too long here without any proper plot development for you to keep this up. _

“You’re exactly right, which is why I’m asking Tony’s sweet ass if we can be mentored for being a hero.” Deadpool spins in a cheeky way, swinging his hips and using his hand to blow an exaggerated kiss in Tony’s direction. At the end of the turn, he’s met with Tony’s very disapproving frown, not exactly what he’d been expecting.

**_Why is he upset? It’s not like we killed anyone… Here._ **

_ I don’t know--that move was perfect; it’s landed us a few dates in the past. _

“I know, it’s bizarre,” he said, putting his chin in his hand. “Why would Iron-ass here not like that idea?”

“Maybe it’s because  _ Iron-ass _ doesn’t even  _ want _ to think of the situations working with you would bring up.” Iron-ass gave a nasty glare to Deadpool--that did nothing but make Deadpool more excited--and left the room with a laugh, muttering; “Wants me to teach him how to be a hero, what a joke!”

_ Well, that’s just  _ rude _! _

**_Who does he think he is, refusing us like that!_ **

‘Maybe he thinks he’s the richest man in all of North America?’

**_That’s ridiculous!_ **

_ I know! So rude! _

‘Hey, guys, maybe we should skedaddle.’

**_Why? I wanted to look for Iron-ass’ porn stash!_ **

‘I know, me too, but I think the voice-in-the-ceiling said something along the lines of  _ terminate Deadpool in five minutes _ .’

_ Yeah… that’s probably not good. _

**_Why? It’s not like we can die._ **

‘Think of the kids, Yellow. The trauma.’

**_Oh… But can we still look for his stash?_ **

_ Duh--who do you think we are? _

Running through the building with reckless abandon, Deadpool made his way to the many different rooms he had access to. He knew he wouldn’t really find anything to pique his interest, but that didn’t mean causing a bit of mayhem was out of the question.

_ Wait! What’s that?! _

**_What’s what?_ **

Stopping in his tracks--and keeping track of time--Deadpool looked at where White was mentally pointing to. “I get that we’re hungry, but I don’t think we have the time to make a taco.”

_ No, what’s  _ on _ the fridge--what’s it say? _

“A note?”

  
  


Wade was sitting at a park bench with a bag filled with deliciousness, or more commonly known as Chimichangas. The various spices of the meat; the flavours of the guacamole; the homemade taste of the burrito; it all came together in the beauty of what Wade Wilson was now currently eating. His obscene moans were heard all around by various park-goers earning him quite a few mothers shooing their children away with more than a few words to spare.

**_This is the life for us._ **

_ I know! It’s a tragedy that the U.S. did what they did to Mexico, but if it meant that we got this  _ godsend _ of a food? I’m okay with it! _

**_What did they do to Mexico?_ **

_ I… Don’t know, actually. _

“Okay, guys, less talk--more shoving these chimichangas into my mouth-hole!”

**_But--the Mexicans! We need to know what happened!_ **

“Hate to break it to you,” he said, sucking on his fingers, ending with a loud ‘pop’. “But if I don’t know what happened, White doesn’t know.”

**_Damn; and here I thought I would be hearing some gruesome story about America’s shady past._ **

_ You and me and both, Yellow. _

“Yeah, well; I think I’m done hearing about the things the U.S. has done to other countries.” Deadpool grabbed another burrito from the bag, the very one that appeared just now to show Deadpool having more than one chimichanga. “For once I think I’d like to eat in silence.”

_ Not gonna happen! _

**_Not with us around!_ **

_ Speaking of… What about that note we found; you know, the  _ interesting _ one? _

“Yeah, yeah; don’t get your knickers in a twist.” Wade searches his pocket until his scarred fingers pass over the smooth piece of paper. He grabs it, pulling it out so he can read the writing that has White so intrigued.

“‘Don’t forget to thank Spider-Man, Tony.

(XXX)-XXX-XXXX’”

**_We’ve got Spider-Man’s number now? Sweet!_ **

_ That’s amazing! _

“Why’s that, White? Care to share?”

_ You’ve asked almost all of the other supers in the area, maybe he could help? _

“I guess.” Wade pulled out another chimichanga from his bag and unwrapped it, taking a large bite; “Later though, because I want to finish these before they get cold.”

_ That’s fair. _

**_Yay, more food!_ **

  
  


Deadpool was sitting on the roof of his favourite building to watch Spider-Man from. For some reason, in this universe, most of Spider-Man’s appearances happen in view of this roof, giving Deadpool a great excuse to sit there occasionally. He was just admiring the scenery when his favourite neighbourhood superhero happened to swing by below.

“Damn,” Deadpool says captivated by the sight. “Spidey has such a great ass; he really did choose the perfect material to make his suit out of.” He continues his stare while Spider-Man continues to swing by, blissfully unaware of the prying eyes above.

_ No more lovey-dovey eyes; focus! _

**_But I quite like what we’re currently making lovey-dovey eyes at!_ **

“I agree wholeheartedly with Yellow. White, you’re being a buzzkill.”

_ No, I just seem to be the only one who remembered our promise. _

“Promise, what promise? I never make promises; you’re lying.” Deadpool gets up from his position on the roof and begins to balance along the edge, raising his arms beside him as a child would. 

_ You did, and I’m collecting. _

“Fine, I’ll play your game, White.” Reaching the end of the current roof, Deadpool jumps across the alley below to the one adjacent, continuing along his path. “What is this promise I made to you, hmm? Better be something sex-related because I am  _ down _ for that!”

**_I agree with him; it has to be as good as sex or we’re not doing it._ **

_ Call Spider-Man. _

Deadpool stops dead--haha, funny joke, Author--in his tracks, his blood freezing and then heating. He can already feel how that interaction would take place, seeing as his suit also hides barely anything.

“Oh, god! That’s way better than sex; Yellow, White: We’re fulfilling a promise.” 

With a lot more enthusiasm than should be expected of Deadpool when it comes to phone calls, he pulls out his phone as quickly as possible. 

He dials the number that he memorized earlier and waits.

First ring…

Second ring…

  
  


At that very moment, Spider-Man’s phone began to buzz.

He could only hope that who he thought was on the other end of the line... wasn't.

Picking out the phone with hesitant fingers from his web-shooter compartments, Spider-Man looked at the caller ID.

_ Unknown Number _

_ Perfect; it’s him _ .

Before he could really give it much thought he clicks the ‘answer’ button and holds it to his ear; “I’m sorry; it won’t happen again.”

Heavy breathing is the only thing that could be heard on the other end of the line. Just as he was about to say something again he gets interrupted.

_ “The only thing you have to be sorry for is having the hottest ass in all of New York City and keeping it from me.” _

‘End Call’

“Who the  _ hell _ got my number without my permission?!” Furious, and rightly so, Spider-Man slings a web and swings himself to the highest rooftop he could find nearby. “Either I’m being pranked, had a ‘wrong number’ type situation, or someone found Spider-Man’s number, potentially revealing my identity.” He begins to pace around the roof as he considers the likelihood of each event when his phone rings again.

It’s the same number.

‘Answer.’

_ “Hey-” _

“You’ve got thirty seconds to tell me who you are before I find you.” 

He wasn’t going for some elaborate plot, just simple and concise and to the point; get this done so he could continue his patrols. He really wanted it to be a ‘wrong number’ scenario that way he could just block the number and be on with life, but on the off chance that it isn’t… He had to do something about how they got his number.

_ “Wow, no foreplay first? And here I thought you would be all for the torture scene.” _ The other line is not taking this lightly, shown by the mocking in his voice--and what’s being said. The only problem for them was they were ten seconds down and Spider-Man was having none of it.

“Twenty seconds before I’m busting down doors,” he says frustratedly.

_ “Ooo~ So you’re a dom! I love that in a guy, really. Can’t get too rough with me, else I might break!” _ The lewd, teasing comment is ended with some really obnoxious laughter before it’s cut by a relenting  _ “Yeah, I got it.” _ Spider-Man was about to jump in and inform the person that they had five seconds before he came for them.

_ “It’s me: Deadpool! ...Yeah, I know I have to tell- I called to ask if you had an opening for a hero-in-training? … Of course, he knows it’s for me; he’s not dumb!” _

Spider-Man felt his body go numb. Deadpool, the guy literally all of the Avengers told him  _ not to talk to in any way, shape, or form _ found his number and is asking for him? Yeah, no. 

_ “...Hello?...Spidey, you there?...” _

“The answer is no.”

_ “Babe, maybe we can-” _ Deadpool’s voice gets cut off as Spider-Man ends the call, not allowing him to continue to offer his stupid idea.

_ What an idiot; as if I’d let him ruin all the credit I’ve built up as a friendly neighbourhood superhero. Just standing next to him would lower my approval rating in the public by thirty percent--and I only have forty! Best not talk to him anymore. _

With just a few clicks and taps the number Deadpool called with was blocked, refusing all future calls from the criminal. “Well… that happened.”

Not allowing himself to further think about the red-clad ‘merc-with-a-mouth’, Spider-Man swung off the building, deciding to clear his thoughts with patrol instead of sleep.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so I'm hoping it was okay this time? I know I went overboard with the semicolons and dialogue (and not enough descriptions of--well, anything), but I think it was an okay way to introduce Deadpool (even though this chapter was basically the summary) and have the two "meet" for the first time. I have good thoughts about the next chapter; however, it will be centred more around Peter's school/home life rather than Spider-Man and Deadpool talking (sorry). 
> 
> Just a notice, though:  
> July 15-19 I will have little-to-no service so I will try and spend that time writing and refining the chapter in my docs. Don't hate me for "abandoning" you guys if/when I don't post--I will be continuing this.
> 
> Thanks again for reading this, and I'll talk to you guys next time!


	3. What's Wrong, Peter? (Tuesday)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I'm back and ready to give another chapter! It might not be that amazing, but I'm pretty proud of it so I hope you enjoy reading it. I swear I'm getting somewhere with this, it just takes a while to get there. (I have no idea what's going on with the notes, but they are being weird. I'll try and fix it in later chapters.)  
> And now, the Words.

Bleary-eyed, Peter tried to make his way around the people leaving the cafeteria without running into anything. Despite his eyes threatening to close every two seconds the table is found, allowing Peter to practically rag-doll on the seat. Maybe not the most graceful, or comfortable, but it did give him access to a headrest.

As he was making a pillow out of his jacket, Gwen sits in a chair, immediately asking, “Peter, you alive? ‘Cause if you’re not alive, I call dibs on having May as my honorary aunt.” She was respectful enough to not jostle the table too much, allowing Peter as much comfort as he could get from the table.

“I’m fine, just tired.” Peter lifts his head up enough so he could see Gwen, giving her a tired smile. “You’re not getting May any time soon.” He smiles a little more at the light laugh he’s given.

“Just so long as I don’t have to go searching for a new friend who is just as bad as me at the fashion game. Don’t get me wrong; I love PJ’s and button-ups as much as the next person--I just don’t think anybody could rock the look like you.” As Gwen says this she takes the time to give Peter a quick once-over, quietly trying to discern whether or not the tired boy in front of her was so tired he couldn’t pick proper clothes for classes.

Peter, unbeknownst to Gwen’s stare, took a moment to see if what she had just described was really what he was wearing. Yep; he really was that tired, huh? He also used this moment to see what Gwen was wearing. In her blue and white striped tee, dark jeans and her hair sitting on her shoulders; she looked tired, but still managed to look nice, somehow pulling off a classic exhausted look.

Peter’s attention is drawn back to the present by Gwen opening up her notebook, writing in some last-minute information. “You know, Peter, if you wanted to stop feeling like death every morning, you could always study throughout the day instead of at the very end.” She’s not really putting much into it, simply making a suggestion, but it makes Peter feel bad. Not for staying up late or anything, but for making Gwen worry.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he says uncommitted. There was once a time when he loved every time Gwen showed any concern for him when he liked being her centre of attention. _Yeah, I was obsessed with Gwen back in high school._ Peter thinks back to those days, wishing they could come back and leave at the same time; _Thank god she friend-zoned me when she did, else I could have done some_ very _dumb things for her._

Gwen snapped her fingers underneath Peter’s nose, bringing him back to the present; “Did you hear me?” She looks expectantly at him, waiting for an answer. His silence is taken as one. She sighs, leaning her head on her hand.

“What did Peter hear,” James says excitedly as he sits next to the person in question. “I hope it’s something good.” He looks back and forth between the two, waiting for one to start. His brightly coloured shirt is a bit much for Peter, so he takes this time to lay his head on James’ left shoulder. “Well?”

“I asked Peter if he would come with me to my study sessions; he’s been coming to class looking more and more tired, I’m worried he might pass out one of these days.”

“This is normal, though, right? I mean, what college would it be if students didn’t show up half asleep on Tuesday mornings?” James laughs as his own little joke, causing Peter to groan at the movement. “Wow, he really is far gone.” Peter ignores the comment and just lets himself settle back into his almost-sleep state. “I agree, his sleep schedule is pretty bad, but…” The voices fade as Peter falls deeper into a much-needed nap.

He dreams of wind whistling past his ears; of falling from great heights; of a phone call, and a voice coming through a speaker. The voice sounds pleading and teasing, almost begging for help yet demanding it at the same time. He can’t hear what the voice is trying to say, only how it makes him feel; a mixture of wanting to help, annoyance, and an underlying… something. The voice gets louder, bit by bit, slowly drowning out the other sensations before it’s a constant noise filling all his thoughts.

Peter is awoken by the sensation of his body falling to the floor. Forcing his eyes open he takes in the view of James grabbing him under the arms and lifting, practically carrying him. Heart still beating fast, Peter almost misses the strange look James gives him from the side of his view. 

James sets Peter back in his chair, making sure he won’t fall. “Thanks, James, I owe you one.”

James smiles wide; “Just don’t do it again and I’ll call it even.” Peter smiles back, agreeing. Peter misses the way James side-eyes him when he turns to Gwen, misses the way James’ eyes gleam with a growing notion of knowing.

Peter regretted where he was standing. _Aunt Many is going to kill me when she finds out how much money I have, let alone how empty my fridge is._ Sliding a hand down his face, Peter feels a bit better knowing he’s not dressed in his PJ’s anymore; the plain blue tee and jeans help make him look less like a disaster. _Let’s just hope May thinks that way_. Without much more keeping him outside he knocks.

The door opens to the old home, revealing Peter’s favourite aunt in all her glory. “Peter!” May smiles and greets her nephew with a hug. “It’s good to see you after so long!”

“It’s only been a month.” Peter smiles at the light scoff May gives him, walking behind her to shut the door. He misses all the time he would spend at Aunt May’s, but with classes and the whole Spider-Man gig; he couldn’t keep a secret from her for so long if he stayed.

The wooden floors creak slightly as the two walk towards the kitchen. The pictures hanging along the walls remind Peter of happier times, back when Ben was still alive. “How’re things with your friends? Getting along well?” May opened the fridge, grabbing a carton of orange juice.

“Yeah, things are okay.” He smiles at the memory of Gwen and James discussing Iron Man’s suit. “We actually planned to see a movie on Saturday, all four of us.”

“Well, isn’t that nice,” May replies. A small beep sounds causing May to turn to the oven. “I didn’t know if you’d have eaten yet so I made this.”

Peter tries to peer around his aunt as she grabs whatever was just baking. “What is it?” She turns around, presenting him with the wondrous sight of a fresh batch of-- “Bread pudding!” He inhales deeply as the cinnamon scent envelopes the room. His stomach cramps a bit before giving a loud rumble; Despite having only started to budget food two days ago he was still _very_ hungry.

Aunt May laughs loudly at the response her nephew has to the presence of the bread pudding; however, she gets slightly suspicious at the wince Peter gives. May knows you have to be quite hungry to make your stomach growl that loud. Something isn’t all that it seems.

Despite her theories, May laughs again at the slight blush that appears on Peter’s cheeks. “I knew you liked it, but I guess I forgot just how much!” Peter chuckles, embarrassed.

“Sorry, I guess I missed your cooking.”

“And the free meals and housing,” May adds listing them on her fingers.

Peter ducks his head a bit, “yeah, and those, too.”

Peter sits on his bed contentedly; his stomach full of food for the first time in a couple of days, knowing he’ll be paid tomorrow--and losing practically all of it to his landlord, but we don’t dwell on that part.

 _I know I live paycheck to paycheck, but I think if all of my days were like this...I might like it. You know, just without the falling-asleep-at-the-table part._ He sighs to himself as he checks the time. _Damn, 6:30 already?_ Peter reluctantly stands up and walks to his closet, opening it to look inside. 

The only things that are in the closet are his two super-cheap suits and a few button-ups. Up above, on a shelf, is a box labelled ‘Goodwill’. _Better suit up_.

_I think this day has gotten even better than it ever could have!_ Spider-Man swings down the street, eyeing the people below and in alleys. _It’s been three hours and I haven't had to stop anyone yet! I guess God is real!_ He continues swinging before turning a corner, pulling himself higher until he’s standing on a roof. “If only every day could be like this,” Spider-Man says to himself.

“So do I, Spidey, so do I.” That voice, that unmistakable voice; He really wanted the silence to be a good thing.

“God isn’t real, then,” Spider-Man says angrily as he turns to face the one person he had been trying to avoid. 

“How’d you come to that conclusion, sweetheart?” Deadpool asks sweetly.

“Because if he were I wouldn’t be seeing you. Here. Using a severed arm as a cane to lean on.” _Wait a second… Severed arm?!_ Spider-Man visibly double-takes as he tries to comprehend what he’s seeing. _WTF?! Why’s he got an arm?!_ “What the hell are you doing with an arm?!” His voice goes higher as his shock grew.

“Woah, Woah, Woah, calm down there; It’s not what it looks like.” Deadpool tosses the arm to the ground a few feet from himself, holding his hands in a placating gesture.

“Not what it looks like?! Not what it looks like,” Spider-Man nearly yells. “What is it _supposed_ to look like? A prop?!” 

“No! I just didn’t want you to think I killed someone for this arm,” Deadpool explains; he says it in a way that sounds as if that’s what makes it okay.

“Gah!” Spider-Man groans. He grabs his head and knocks it a few times to be sure he’s actually awake. _This can_ not _be happening to me tonight. I just wanted a few more hours of peace; was that too much?_ Spider-Man looks over to Deadpool again, watching him stand there looking like a child waiting for their parent to congratulate them. 

He tears his eyes away, unable to look at the mercenary. Spider-Man can’t stand still anymore as he tries to process what Deadpool meant by what he said. “You’re telling me you didn’t kill for this arm?”

Deadpool nods vehemently. “So,” he says as he begins to pace back and forth, “You’re saying you found a random person on the street, attacked them, and stole their _arm_?”

“Aww, Spidey, you really think I’d do that? I’m touched.”

“Are you saying you...didn’t do that?”

“Of course not!” Deadpool seems offended by the suggestion, his frown visible through his mask. _Colour me impressed; Deadpool managed some restraint._ “I stopped a robbery by taking the guy’s arm!” Now a smile shows through.

 _Nevermind_. “Deadpool, you wanna know a secret to be a hero?” Spider-Man’s question brings the killer closer, nodding all the while. “Rule number one of Hero Business: Don’t disembody, eviscerate, or kill anybody. At all. Even if it stops a crime from being committed, you don’t do it.” Spider-Man webs Deadpools feet to the ground and his arms to his sides. “Think on that until we meet next--and let’s hope that’s a long time from now, bordering on never.” With that, Spider-Man shoots a web across the street, leaving Deadpool looking like a caterpillar with heart eyes.

“Peter, you sure you’re doing okay? You’re more exhausted than normal,” Harry asks. He’s giving Peter his pitying eyes as he awaits an answer.

“Yeah, no, I’m fine. Just not getting much sleep is all.” Peter felt guilty for not fully answering Harry’s question but he needed to get the attention off of himself. _I can’t tell them that Jameson paid me less for my pictures and that my landlord takes all but $50 every month, but that goes to my first-aid kit and suit repair supplies; no, I can’t make them worry about it._

“Maybe you should take up Gwen’s suggestion and study with her later,” James says. “It’s at 6:00, meaning you’d be able to sleep like a normal person for once.”

“I’d love to but I’ve got plans with my aunt every night at 6:00, so I can’t.” Peter looks at Gwen, giving her an apologetic look. “Sorry.” Peter stands and grabs his stuff, heading to his next class. Behind him Harry and Gwen look at each other while James stares at Peter’s back, watching him walk away.

James made up his mind. He looks at the other two having a silent conversation. Now he needed their help.

Peter was lying on his bed trying to sleep. He’d been there since 4:00, but after two hours he hadn’t made any progress. Peter groaned into the pillow he’s laying on; “I might as well head out early.”


	4. Something Bad, Something Good (Wednesday)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I am so sorry for leaving you guys high-and-dry like that. My cousin visited for a few weeks and I wasn't allowed to be on any electronic without him able to watch, so... I couldn't really write. In order to make up for it, I've written this as soon as I could, and plan on making another shortly. Again, I'm sorry.  
> Anyway, here they are The Words.

_ Why’d I have to stay out so late? _ Peter groans at his idiocy as he tries his best to not fall asleep for the third time this week. James was talking to Gwen and Harry, the three seem to plan something; Harry would sneak small glances over when Peter wasn’t watching as Gwen would continuously look at her phone. Peter couldn’t continue his fight with sleep so he elected to just rest his head on James’ shoulder; _ he wouldn’t mind, right? _

“Alright, I guess it’s settled; I’ll see you guys later, then.” Peter was awoken by a moving pillow. As he wiped his eyes he saw Gwen, Harry, and James all getting up and leaving. 

“Make sure you don’t forget,” Gwen said as she packed her bag. She and Harry seemed to be leaving together, and while that wasn’t very unusual, it’s a bit early.  _ It’s only 1:15, why are they leaving so soon? _

The three didn’t seem to notice Peter as they left, not even to say goodbye, or provide a simple excuse. To make the picture complete, Peter also got up to leave.  _ I wonder what they’re doing… _

Peter was lying on his couch much earlier than normal as he had left earlier than normal. This whole day wasn’t normal; Peter had gotten back from patrols at five, giving him two hours’ “sleep”. He was almost late--not that that wasn’t normal, but Gwen or James didn’t call him. And then there was the situation at lunch.

Normally they all sit together from noon to two, waiting for classes or just not wanting to go back home. Today they talked about  _ something _ , leaving Peter out of the conversation, and then they all left early without giving any reason…

_ Don’t tell me… no, they wouldn’t do that… would they? _ Peter thought the worst was coming to pass--he was being dropped.  _ But Gwen and Harry have been my friends since  _ ever _! They wouldn’t do this to me, at least, not without a strong reason… _ He travelled through his memories for something he did that would have warranted this. 

_Well, I did start to close off from them after college started… but then we made up and I balanced my patrols with school better. Um… I’ve been falling asleep at the table, but that’s the usual._ Peter honestly couldn’t think of anything bad enough. He got up from the couch and walked to his room, grabbing a book from the floor.

_ Maybe they just don’t like you. _

Peter stalled his movement, still bent to grab the smooth cover of his dropped book. The thought wasn’t even in the realm of possibility, and yet… it makes so much sense. Recognising what was happening, Peter changed course to his nightstand, grabbing his phone and earbuds. He wasn’t going to dwell on it--not this time.

  
  


**_So, when are we going to cause some chaos?_ **

_ Don’t you ever think before you speak? He doesn’t want to cause any chaos for fear of making his crush mad at him. _

**_Ooo~ I thought we were still in admire from afar territory, but we’ve moved on to crush? This is too good._ **

“It’s not nice to make fun of someone you know everything about, Yellow.”

**_I can’t wait for you to mess up as badly as you did with the severed arm!_ **

Yellow laughed loudly throughout Deadpool’s head, making the relaxing evening in Central Park much harder. As Yellow got louder and louder, Deadpool got more and more agitated, his hand coming to rest on his holster.

_ Yellow, stop! I don’t think you like it any more than me when ‘Pool kills himself. Plus, if he does it here, in a park full of kids, think of the damage! _

**_That’d be a lot of damage… Okay, fine- I’ll stop._ **

It took longer than Deadpool wanted for him to relax. His thoughts going back to the night on the roof, the  _ Severed Arm Incident _ as Yellow and White have elected to call it. He couldn’t forget the disappointment in Spidey’s eyes; couldn’t shake off the feeling of guilt that stuck with him for the rest of the night. He never wanted to disappoint Spidey ever again.

“I guess we should go home, guys,” Deadpool said, getting up from his spot on the grass.

**_Aw, but I wanted to see the sunset._ **

_ You can see that from our window, Yellow, we don’t need to stay here, in the middle of everyone’s view. _

“Thank you, White.” He walked along the sidewalk, getting some stares from the people around him, but he didn’t care. Okay- he did, but he tried to convince himself he didn’t- A gunshot rang out loudly from an alley across the street. 

_ A gun?! Maybe we can stop the crooks! _

**_Crooks? Is Spidey’s influence rubbing off on you that much? Besides, we can’t even see what’s going on; all the people running around makes it hard to see._ **

“How about we just run over there like normal?” Deadpool reached for his guns when he halts.  _ “Rule number one of Hero Business: Don’t disembody, eviscerate, or kill anybody. At all. Even if it stops a crime from being committed, you don’t do it.”  _ The feeling of guilt creeps upon him for a short second. ‘I was about to do it again.’

_ ‘Pool, You can stop the guilt train. Look at who's in the line of fire. _

Deadpool looks up to see his favourite bug-themed superhero kicking ass. Spidey quickly runs up the wall only to jump off to kick the one holding the gun in the head, knocking him out of commission. Through another series of amazing reflexes and flexibility, Spidey takes down the second of three guys.

_ Oh man, he is so hot. _

‘Took the words right out of my mouth- or, brain, I guess.’

**_He may be the fuel for your “me time” sessions, but doesn’t something seem a bit wrong?_ **

_ When did you become so smart? _

**_Just now._ **

“You’re right, something is a bit off.” Deadpool watches Spidey continue to fight the last guy. “He looks like he’s tired.”

_ What if he’s hurt?! The gun did go off, it’s unlikely that it missed everyone. _

Without even waiting for White to finish “talking” Deadpool had rushed over to the fight. “Hey there, darlin’, how’s it hangin’?”

“Not right now, Deadpool. If you can’t see I’m kinda busy at the moment.” Spidey hadn’t broken his string of consecutive attacks.

_ He sounds tired. _

**_Told you._ **

“Yeah, I see that now,” Deadpool said, to Yellow of Spidey, that was up for interpretation. “But, I was wondering if you would like some help? I mean, you seem to be doing fine, but it might make it easier.” It’s at this point that the Author reveals the third guy, while he wasn’t the largest, has the strongest grasp of actual fighting techniques, able to keep pace with everything Spider-Man threw at him.

“I appreciate it, really, but I don’t think I want to be associated with a murder.”

“That’s not what-” Deadpool was cut short by a yell of pain from Spidey. It seemed that White’s theory was right: Spidey had been the one the shot had connected with. Spidey collapsed on the ground clutching his side, the side that Deadpool could now see was covered in blood.

**_He wears red for the same reason we do. Huh, funny._ **

_ NOT funny, Yellow. That means he’s been hurt enough to need to switch to red. _

**_Wait, what happened to the guy--the bad one?_ **

_ Deadpool saw his crush collapsed on the ground so he snapped, punching the cause of Spidey’s pain so hard in the nose that it shattered and knocked him unconscious, probably leaving him with a concussion. _

**_Man, and I missed it? That sucks._ **

_ Shh! They’re talking! _

“Spidey, you need any help?” Deadpool crouched next to Spider-Man, watching him struggle to get up. He wanted to help but didn’t want to make Spidey uncomfortable so he just had his arms open in invitation.

“I’m fine,” Spidey grunted out. “I don’t need your help.” He struggled to get to his hands and knees, gasping in pain every time he stretched his torso.

**_Why aren’t you helping him, he’s clearly in pain._ **

_ He was told not to. _

**_But he’s hurt, badly. He clearly isn’t thinking clearly._ **

_ We know that, but it doesn’t change the fact we were told not to. _

“What are you still doing here; I would’ve expected you to have left by now.” Deadpool had spaced out, coming back when Spidey spoke. He’d gotten himself into a seated position against the brick wall, looking at Deadpool.

“I’m not leaving until you convince me you can make it home on your own, as well as cleanout the wound.” He hadn’t meant to but his concern flooded his voice more than he’d wanted it to. Spidey looked at him with wide eyes, leaving Deadpool feeling more vulnerable than he’d like.

“Wow, didn’t know you cared so much. Thought you were more of an ‘I’d rather die than show my emotions’ kinda guy.”

_ He read you like a book. _

**_As if Deadpool is a book--he’s more like a movie with closed captioning and the director’s voice explaining everything._ **

_ True. _

“Uh... I mean- I kinda am, but I’d rather you not die of your pride.”

“Hmm…” Spidey looks Deadpool over, “Well, I can’t tell you where I live, but I can tell you I’ll be fine getting there.” He sighs, wincing at a flare of pain.

“I don’t know if I believe you right now.”

“Trust me, I’ll make it.” Spidey slowly rises, holding the wall for support. “I live here, in Queens, and I also know how to take care of myself; I’ve been doing this for nine years now, so believe me when I say I’ll survive.”

Deadpool couldn’t say anything against him so he just watched dumbly as Spidey climbed the wall and then disappeared from sight. Right before getting onto the roof, Spidey did something that Deadpool and the Boxes weren’t expecting; he smiled down at them and waved goodbye.

**_I could’ve sworn Spidey hated us. What was that?_ **

_ It’s called character development, as well as a new chapter in their relationship. _

**_Doesn’t it seem a bit rushed? I mean, it was only yesterday that Spidey had webbed us up on the roof after holding a severed arm._ **

_...Maybe it’s shock? Traumatic events do weird things to the mind. _

**_You mean how Wade keeps imagining Spidey smile, using that to-_ **

_ YELLOW! _

**_What? It’s only fair that the Readers get to know what Wade keeps doing._ **

_ It’s still just a little bit too early. Let’s just… let them imagine it. _

**_But he keeps moaning his name! If I have to hear it, they do too!_ **

_ It might not be fair, but I don’t think the Author is ready for that yet. For now, we’ll just let them off with this. _

**_But then we’re not even making the 2,000 words mark! How is that fair to the Readers?!_ **

_ Yellow, just- let it happen. _

**_Fine, but I won’t like it._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's not the best, nor is it nearly as long as it should be, but it's all I've got without making it take longer than it already has. I will continue this, it will not go unfinished. Again, I really am so sorry for not publishing in so long.  
> Well, until next time.


	5. You Can Talk To Us, Peter (Thursday)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry it's a few days late. School started and I got my first job, so that's new. Umm, updates will come a bit like this one did--after two weeks--and I'll try and get them out on Saturday's, too. I'll try my best, but I just need a bit of patience from you readers.  
> Another thing is that I can't figure out what to do about the endnotes, so I just won't include any. This chapter, while it is short, does have a lot of plot, as well as the building of character relationships and backgrounds.  
> Without further ado: The Words.

“James, Peter; stop talking about your obsession with Star Trek,” Gwen says, smirking when she gets two dramatic gasps.

“It’s Star  _ Wars _ ,  _ not _ Star  _ Trek _ !”

“Yeah, Peter? Well, maybe I’d care a bit more if you two stopped talking about it whenever we need to plan an event.”

“Not our fault we plan something right when Peter and I-”

“Yes, yes it is.” Gwen is very effective at shushing the two; Peter and James slouch in their seats. “Great! Now that _ that  _ was taken care of, let’s move onto better things: Spring Break Plans.” At Gwen’s prompting, Harry begins listing off some  _ very  _ expensive venues for their break.

“We could head down to South Carolina and spend the eight days we have to stay on the beaches; there is a lovely country club over in Pennsylvania that I’ve been to before; we could go-” Harry’s list is stopped by James shoving a fry in his mouth, almost choking him.

“Or,” James says, “Why don’t we just stay at one of our houses, living collectively so we can cut the costs of everything? It would reduce the cost of everything drastically, allowing us to do some awesome things, like  _ staying at home and not doing anything for the whole time _ .”

“That’s a  _ wonderful  _ idea, James!” Peter smiles slightly, shifting his view from James’s grin to Harry’s watery eyes; “We could stay at Harry’s place and live like royalty.” Peter watches as Harry’s eyes grow wide at the suggestion at the same time Gwen smiles cheerfully, clapping her hands.

“Perfect! Always with the great plans, Peter,” Gwen says.

“ _ Not _ perfect!  _ Never  _ with the great plans, Peter,” Harry says.

“And what makes it ‘not perfect’?” Peter asks. He doesn’t show it but his comment kinda hurt--just a little, but still.

“I don’t know if you guys remember, but the last time we tried that my dad got  _ pissed. _ ” Harry made exaggerated motions with his hands, crossing them as to show an “x”.

“Then this time we’ll just call in advance,” Gwen cuts in. “Harry, you have seven days to contact your dad.” Harry groans and puts his head on the table, showing his love of the plan. “James, you’ll bring-

“-Snacks! I will grab all the snacks for the first night; I mean, with it being at the Osborne home, I don’t think we’ll have any problem getting food.” James flashes Harry a smirk that he can’t see because he was still groaning into the table. Peter, always thinking ahead, thought about the kind of snacks James might bring; Pocky, veggie straws, Nilla Wafers, Twizzlers, Skittles;  _ Oh man, I’m remembering just how hungry I am nowadays. _

As if summoned by his thoughts, Peter’s stomach cramped--badly. Arriving with the pain that Peter was doing his best at not alerting his friends too, a growl befitting an Eldritch Horror rose from the empty pit that was his stomach. “Uh… sorry?” James, Gwen and Harry were looking at him in three different ways.

James was looking as if he had just learned that everything is a simulation. Gwen, while she had been forcibly lifting Harry’s head, dropped him in her shock. Harry--well, he was mainly in pain from getting his head dropped onto a table, but still in shock all the same.

“Dude… that was the loudest growl I have ever heard in my entire life. Impressive.” James, ever the eloquent one, recovered first, congratulating Peter. Gwen, recovering enough to process words, hit James on the head. “Ow! I mean- Peter, why haven’t you been eating?”

“Honestly,” Gwen says, shaking her head. “Peter, do you want some of mine?”

_ Oh geez, do I want some of your food,  _ Peter thought. _ But if I accept then I’m admitting that I haven’t been eating for the past three days; and if you factor everything that I’ve been doing as Spider-Man, then it’ll be seen as worse. But if I don’t accept then they’ll get suspicious; I don’t know anybody who forgets their food and refuses a friend’s offer. Think, Parker: What are you going to do?  _ The three watch as Peter grabs his stuff and walks away.

“...What was that about?” Harry asks.

“It’s not like I offered him something he hates. He  _ loves _ cafeteria pizza.” Gwen says, getting up to go after Peter.

“I think,” James says, grabbing Gwen’s arm to stop her; “We might need to make a ‘wellness visit’ to Peter’s house.

Peter Parker was calmly walking down the street, not even a block from his college. The people walking beside him see a perfectly content college student walking back to his apartment--the couldn’t be more wrong. The most prominent thought in Peter’s mind was:  _ Fuck. Why’d I do that?! Fuck. They’re gonna think I hate them! Fuck. I can’t believe I just did that! Fuck. Why didn’t I stop myself?! Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. _

Peter’s mind was in turmoil as he thought over what went down not even five minutes ago. Did he want to go back and fix his reaction? Yes! Could he go back and fix his reaction? No! Did he have the courage to see them tomorrow? No! Did they hate him? Most likely! All of Peter’s thoughts were on what he did next--so much so that he almost didn’t answer his phone that just started to ring.

“Hello?” Peter asks; the number wasn’t one that he recognised.

_ “Hey, I know this is sudden and most likely not what you wanted to hear right now but I need to know: Does an accidental bullet count as breaking the rules?” _ Deadpool’s words were rushed and panicked as well as slightly out of breath. Peter stopped walking to fully realise what was happening.

“...What? Are you asking me this?! I told you, you aren’t able to-”

_ “I get that, I do--but I forgot the exact wording; Yellow and White keep mixing up the words so I can’t remember what’s right anymore..” _

“You forgot?” Peter’s voice raised just a tad louder than normal talking, and the added air of disbelief brought in a few ears eager to hear this. Noticing this, Peter began walking again, faster to make it into an alley to climb the walls. 

_ “Yes, I did, but if you could give me an answer I’d be most appreciated.”  _

“I guess it depends on the specifics of  _ how _ they got shot,” Peter says plainly.

_ “How specific?” _

“What happened?”

_ “I was hoping you wouldn’t ask… Yes, we get it, White; you’re so smart.”  _ Peter didn’t have any idea who White was but didn’t spend any time on it. It’s probably one of Deadpool’s mercenary friends.

“Well?”

_ “First you have to promise not to judge me.” _

“What, why would I-?”

_ “Promise!” _

“Ugh, fine; I promise.”

_ “Great. So, I was walking down to my favourite taco place, okay? And right before I get over there I see these shady guys back a guy into an alley, right? So, being the amazing guy that I am, I go to help. So, I’m there, kicking some ass, as usual, when two of them pull out guns. I think, ‘Oh shit, not again!’ And as they go to shoot, I duck down--but that’s where the problem arises: They were opposite of each other, so when I ducked, they each hit the other.” _

Peter thought. He let it really sink in, what Deadpool had just told him. He pictured it in his mind. And then laughed. 

_ “Spidey? That’s not exactly encouraging.” _

“Oh my god,” he says in between laughter. “That’s gotta be the funniest thing I’ve heard in a while!” He laughed _hard_. As in, full-bellied laughter that caused you to snort, cough, and cry, all at the same time. “Jesus Christ; that’s golden! Ha…” Peter wipes a tear from his eye, finally calm. “No, Deadpool; you’re safe. You followed all the rules.”

_ “...” _ Deadpool was quiet, which concerned Peter.

_ Shit, did he think I was laughing at  _ him _?! I mean, I was, but not really? I was laughing at the situation. _ “Deadpool, you okay?”

_ “That was so fucking adorable. Please laugh like that again.” _ And that was  _ not _ what Peter was expecting. Without thinking--again--he ends the call.

_ Buzz...Buzz...Buzz...Buz- “Sorry, I said that without thinking.” _

“No, it’s okay, I wasn’t thinking when I hang up on you. Sorry.”

_ “Whoo, good--I thought I did something bad there.” _

“No, you didn’t but now that your question has been answered, why’d you call back?” Peter was no longer seated on the roof of a building, but instead about a block from his apartment. “And so late, too?”

_ “Yellow and White were fighting about why you ended the call, and I…” _ He didn’t finish his sentence but it was clear he just wanted to talk, no strings attached. Peter, being the nice guy he is, indulged him. I mean, who could blame the guy? Peter’s day has been filled with bad, so it was a nice distraction.

“Hey, Deadpool,” Peter starts. “Have I told you of the time I got free pizza for a week?”

“ _ No, but you can now. _ ”

“Okay, so it started…”

**Author's Note:**

> So... Was it bad? It was bad, wasn't it? Sorry if I let your expectations fall, but I really am trying here.  
> If you liked it, please leave a comment below.  
> If you hated it, try giving me constructive criticism rather than spew insults like a third grader.  
> P.S. (I really would like to have a Beta reader but I don't know how to ask for one. So... if anyone is interested, contact me through myven.ao3.betatips@gmail.com)  
> Please don't spam; I'll try and get back to you as soon as I can.


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